


Over the Hills and Far Away

by a_steady_wish



Category: The X-Files
Genre: Alternate Universe - Canon Divergence
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2017-05-08
Updated: 2017-05-08
Packaged: 2018-10-29 16:33:55
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,567
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/10857849
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/a_steady_wish/pseuds/a_steady_wish
Summary: Alternate ending to the William adoption arc.





	Over the Hills and Far Away

**Author's Note:**

> A story written for @leiascully's Tumblr challenge "Paperwork" and originally posted on Tumblr.

After William was carried away, Scully had climbed into her bed and stayed there for three days. The phone rang occasionally; her mother came to the door once (she didn’t open it); the sun rose and set each day with no contribution from her to the world. The world would go on, she realized, with or without me. I am a mother without a child, by my own hand, and that cannot be undone.

Scully took more sleeping pills than she should and slept for ten hours at a stretch. When she got up to shuffle to the bathroom, or to take a drink of water (and another pill or two), she purposely didn’t let her brain turn on. She forced her body to go through the motions of human movement, of emptying the bladder, of washing the hands, without any thought whatsoever. Thinking was painful, feeling was excruciating. She hoped to numb herself until she could at least take a breath without feeling her chest constrict and her limbic system try to pull her apart from the inside out. How many days until she would feel human again? Would she ever?

On the dawn of the third day her stomach lining was eating itself, and Scully didn’t care. She took three sleeping pills and slept for twelve hours. It was on this day that she had a dream: a dream of Mulder, running through a park, calling to her. His hair was longer than it had been when she’d seen him last, and he was skinnier, more frail. But his eyes were still bright, hopeful. He was still her Mulder.

"Scully! Scully!" He called to her, waving his arms, his face bright and excited. She realized suddenly that she had missed this most while he was away. His excitement, determination, and passion in life made all things better, clearer, purposeful. With Mulder gone, her life had been a blur of dull days, with sparks of fear and terror when the baby was in danger thrown into the mix. She had motored on for William, but now she had no reason to keep going.

In her dream, she was turning around, surprised to see him.

"Scully," he said again, reaching her. "How’s the little guy?"

Another surprise when he put his arm around her and turned her to the side, and there, in front of her now, was William in a baby swing, kicking his legs, squealing with delight.

"Mulder… he’s gone," she breathed, her eyes filling with tears. "This is your dream, Mulder, about coming home to us and having this life. It’s not going to happen. William is not ours anymore."

"Of course he’s ours, Scully," Mulder laughed, tickling the baby’s bare toes. "He’s our miracle. And he will be forever."

Scully, in her dream, leaned into Mulder’s warm body, letting his hands against her back, and the sunshine against her skin, and the giggles of their sweet baby wash over her senses.

"Scully, I found you here to give you something," Mulder told her, kissing the top of her head. He gave William’s swing a gentle push with one hand; the baby moved in and out of her presence, one second in arm’s reach, and then gone, and then back again. She was confused; the pretty, green park began to spin around her.

"Mulder, what is it?" She pleaded.

"I came here to give you hope," he said. And then she woke up.

Three days in what might have been her death bed, and Dana Scully rose again. She had a shower, a bowl of oatmeal. She turned on the news. She checked her messages, emailed her mom to say she would come for a visit later the next week. She would have to tell her, in person, about letting go of the baby. It was going to be only mildly easier than telling Mulder, if he ever came back.

Scully went back to work on Monday, telling only Skinner, Doggett and Reyes about the baby’s adoption. Having been along this journey with her all these months, and having tried to protect William with their own lives, they deserved to know. She wouldn’t, however, accept their sympathy. She blamed herself for this, and would carry the burden herself, in silence.

On Thursday night, she got home from work late, opened her email, and almost vomited. The bile from her empty stomach stung her throat as she read:

Dearest Dana,

I’m sorry that I haven’t made contact in so long. Things have been progressing. I believe I am on the right track. The most threatening elements have been immobilized for now. I hope to come home to you soon.

All my love,

M.

Scully reread the email at least five times before turning away from her computer. Her hands were trembling, her heart was pounding; a cold sweat suddenly dampened the back of her neck, under her hair.

Two weeks ago, she had emailed him multiple times over several days, trying desperately to make contact. William had been in danger, was being pursued by dark forces that seemed to be all around them, and he was showing signs of something mysterious, a power she could not explain nor understand. She’d emailed Mulder repeatedly, asking for a phone call, asking him to let her know if he was alive, asking him to give her something…. Some kind of sign…. Hope to keep holding on.

I need you, I can’t do this on my own, she had written to him.

She’d received no reply.

Now, in the silence of her apartment, Scully paced the living room, the computer screen glaringly white in the darkness. Mulder was alive and hoping to make it home to her. What would he say when he found that the baby was gone? Would he ever forgive her? Could she ever forgive herself for sending William away instead of fighting to keep him safe on her own, and believing that Mulder would return?

I gave up too soon, she deduced, and the realization felt like a catapult under her feet. There was work to be done.

Marlene arrived at Scully’s apartment at noon on Friday. She was carrying piles of paperwork but her expression was resigned. “I wish I could give you good news,” she said softly. “I know you’ve been through a terribly hard time. The thing is, someone else has already filed for custody. As you know, birth parents have thirty days to appeal an adoption and resume their parental rights. So normally this would not be such a difficult case, although you would have to explain how you’re in a better position to raise a child, two weeks after saying you could not. But… it would likely go in your favor. With this other family member claiming custody… it complicates the matter.”

“What?!” Scully exclaimed, grabbing the table for balance. “How can that be? So few people even knew that he’d been given up…” She realized, then, that the evil forces that had been after him for all these months must have found out about the adoption, using their dark connections to appear to be related to William and seek custody of him. What did they want with him? “Excuse me,” she said, and sat down, resting her head in her hands while the dizzy spell passed over.

“I’m sorry, Dana,” Marlene said. “I’ve brought you the paperwork for the appeal and I suggest you do it immediately. You can bring it to my office today by five or tomorrow and I’ll present it to the court right away. Ultimately it will be the judge that decides where William will go.”

Scully lost another night of sleep, tossing and turning, eventually getting out of bed at three in the morning to get online and research adoption appeal cases. She wished she could tell Mulder what was happening, but she didn’t dare risk emailing him about this. If the most evil people she’d ever had the displeasure of knowing about were trying to gain custody of her son, she wasn’t going to help them by emailing her plans. No, this needed to be done as secretly as possible. Maybe she could connect with Mulder in dreams, the way he had with her. Mulder, hear me, know my heart, she called to him in her mind as she drifted off to sleep on the couch at dawn.

Paperwork was done to the last detail and presented to a judge by the adoption agency; now all she could do was wait for either a hearing or an answer. Scully went back to work, investigating the case of a man with psychokinesis who felt that he didn’t belong; thoughts of William, who would raise him, how he would grow up, assaulted her every thought and as her emotions spun out of control she considered, more than once, that she might actually be losing her mind. Still, she moved forward, holding on to that dream of Mulder, his message of hope.

The following Friday, Marlene showed up at the door, unannounced. She was sympathetic and subdued as she explained to Scully that the other family member seeking custody had won his case, and was picking up William very shortly. It had been an easy case, apparently, with the man seeming to have the child’s best interests at heart, and at his request, the files had been sealed. It had been done quickly and without recourse.

“I’m so, so sorry, Dana,” the woman said kindly, and squeezed Scully’s arm. “If there’s anything I can do in the future…”

Scully could barely speak as she walked Marlene to the door and saw her out. She stood in her apartment and stared out the window. Outside, a young couple pushed a baby carriage down the sidewalk, smiling. She rested her head against the pane of glass and watched them go until their figures disappeared into the evening horizon.

She went to Mass the next morning, lighting candles for Mulder and William. She felt like she was praying without ceasing for William to be safe, loved, and happy. Not knowing who had him could potentially make her insane, and she was going to have to work at strengthening her faith to get through this. Walking home after church, Scully stopped, on a whim, and looked in the window of Mulder’s favorite bakery in the neighborhood. She smiled wistfully, recalling the sweet, easy times that they’d shared, spending the night in her bed, having breakfast at her table on weekend mornings. He used to read her the comics while she poured coffee and rolled her eyes.

That’s not even funny, Mulder.

No, no, Scully, you’re just not getting it!

Oh, I’m getting it alright. It’s not funny.

Okay, Scully, wait. I’ll read it again, but I’ll use different voices.

Oh, Mulder. You’re trying too hard! If you have to try this hard to make it funny, it just isn’t.

I want to hear your laugh, Scully, that’s all. It’s one of my very favorite sounds, you know.

She passed her apartment building and kept walking – and walking, and walking – until it was dinner time and dusk was approaching. The evening had turned cool, and Scully wasn’t dressed for the weather; her legs ached; her throat was dry. She didn’t want to go home, lonely and alone, but there was no other choice.

Scully got inside, kicked off her shoes, had a glass of water, and was about to turn on her computer to see if Mulder had emailed again when she heard it – a baby’s whine – that sounded just like William.

“You are losing your mind, Dana,” she said to herself, turning back to the screen.

But there it was again: a whine, then a cry, from the hallway that sounded just like the baby she loved. Scully felt paralyzed; of course it wasn’t William, but why was this happening? Was it a trick of the mind – a neighbor’s baby that she was making out to sound like her own? A cruel joke? Was someone trying to make her go mad? She pulled herself up on trembling legs, holding the back of the chair, waiting for something to happen.

“Nothing’s going to happen,” she chided herself.

But there was a knock at the door. Then another. Scully’s legs wouldn’t move, couldn’t move.

“Wait,” she found herself crying out loudly. Her voice sounded like the screech of an alarm in her own ears. “Wait, please! I’m coming!”

It couldn’t be William, of course. It couldn’t be. It couldn’t.

Scully stumbled to the door, her heart beating so quickly in her chest she thought it might burst through. His sounds were on the other side of the door, and her arms wanted to reach right through the wood and grab him, hold him. It felt like it took a lifetime to turn the two locks and pull the door open –

And there he was, her very own miracle, and holding him was Mulder.

“I didn’t have my key,” Mulder said sheepishly, his eyes shining. He looked just like he had in her dream: a little too skinny, paler than she was used to, but still her Mulder.

She pulled them in, speechless, not knowing who to hold first. Finally she wrapped her arms around them both, kissing their faces over and over. William, tired, rubbed his eyes and whined at her; Mulder chuckled.

“He’s grumpy when he’s tired. Just like someone else I know.”

“Shut up,” Scully half-laughed, half-wept, but in truth she had never been happier to be poked fun of more in her life.

“How did you find out?” Scully whispered into Mulder’s chest. William patted her hair with his damp little hand, gurgling.

“One of my contacts found out about the adoption the day it happened. I had to act quickly, Scully, and I had to keep it quiet. God, I wish – “ he stroked her cheek tenderly, “I wish I could have come here first, done it with you.”

“It’s okay,” she exhaled on a sob, “All that matters is that you’re both here now.”

Curled up together on William’s bedroom floor, they read him a story while the baby got sleepy against his mother’s chest. Mulder had a storybook that the adoptive family had given him; they had said it was his favorite at their house. They had been upset, he said, to have the adoption appealed – but there would be time for that story another day. Tonight was about miracles. So as Scully rocked William in her still-trembling arms, Mulder read:

Sad Mother Duck went out one day

Over the hills and far away

Mother Duck said “Quack, quack, quack, quack,”

And all of her five little ducklings came back.

“Kind of a sad story,” Mulder said, running his hand over Scully’s leg as she gazed at him, then their son, in turn. The baby was sucking his thumb now – that was new for him – and his blue eyes were struggling to stay open, but failing miserably. They rolled back in his head as all of muscles relaxed and he fell asleep in her arms. Mulder kissed her cheek, laid his hand on the baby’s back.

“Yes, it is a sad story,” Scully agreed, leaning into Mulder’s shoulder as he nuzzled her temple, William’s sweet baby breath warm against her neck. “But it has a happy ending.”


End file.
